Merry Christmas!

I know I'm sorry, I have been busy and Rosey has been sick so has only just got the chapter to me. I got it to you before the new year though.

I am sorry that Dark Arthur scared the crap out of you...not really I found the reviews funny...

Er... I had this roleplay with a reviewer and found it fun, so if any of you ever get bored and want the characters to answer questions about what has happened so far in the story feel free to do so. (Might do something on tumblr...)

Enough of that here is the next chapter, I don't own Hetalia or any of the characters...legally speaking.

(Just want to check that people read chap 21 as I did put an author note there but replaced it. It makes sense without it but its where France meets Prussia)

Enjoy

Standing firmly in place, eyes determined, North didn't even flinch when the sword flew towards his neck. Refusing to give up on his brother, he continued to stare into burning green eyes. As soon as the flames fizzled out, the weapon halting a few millimetres from Connor's jaguar, the teen tackled the blonde into a hug.

England's legs gave way, causing him to drop to his knees. The wall keeping the water at bay collapsed, water crashed into the two nations, though neither paid it any mind, not even the blonde, who was terrified of it.

"W-w-what did I do? I-I didn't hurt you did I? Oh God, Connor, I-I lost control," the Englishman stuttered, his whole frame shaking. North held onto his brother tightly. He wasn't entirely sure what he was meant to do, he had only seen England really lose his temper once and his other brothers had been present, he just knew that the blonde wouldn't harm anyone he cared about.

"It's ok Artie, you didn't hurt anyone except that fucking doctor. You didn't cause any damage, though you might have mentally scarred Gil."

"Gilbert! Oh fuck Gilbert. Is he ok? Oh Christ, he saw the whole thing. I'm sorry." The angel attempted to move towards the Prussian but was shaking too much to do so. North gave his brother a squeeze around his middle before gently pulling away.

"Calm down Artie, I'll talk to him for you. I need you calm down so we can bloody free Spain." The auburn haired nation gave the blonde a small smile, hesitating a bit before he swam over to the ice prism.

He tentatively knocked on the ice and received a weak tap in response. Alarmed at how weak the other's tap was, Connor practically smashed the icy prison. As soon as the albino was visible, the teenager pulled him out only to gasp at how cold the ghost was.

Yes, England had placed a mild chilling spell on the Prussian to numb the spell but he shouldn't be that cold. Was the Prussian that badly hurt or had England not performed the spell correctly? Not that Northern Ireland would blame him, his brother had been fighting rage and still suffering from the shock of being underwater and seeing his torturer again. But then again, when someone is at risk England was always able to concentrate enough to perform a spell.

"Gil? Fucking stay with me Gil," the Northern Irish nation pleaded, giving the worryingly pale ghost a gentle slap on the cheek. The albino frowned at the action, grumbling some curses in his native tongue, he begrudgingly opened his eyes.

A sigh of relief escaped the teen at the sight of the crimson eyes, although they were glazed, they were open. Prussia groaned as he stared up at the teen, and attempted to get up, only to wince and get pushed back down by North.

"Gott, I need to get up. Fick Arthur! What just happened? Verdemant! I can't think straight, I'm so cold."

North gave the ghost a sympathetic smile, hiding his worry very well behind it. Prussia shouldn't be that pale and he could feel the energy from the spell that England had cast, the blonde had performed it perfectly.

In an attempt to calm his nerves, Connor decided to just explain everything to the ghost, "There's a reason we don't wind Artie up to the point of snapping, and you just saw fucking why. Yeah we tease him, but we know when to stop.

"Pat was the first to see this side of Artie, the wanker had really upset him somehow and he lost it. Poor Artie didn't remember a bloody thing about it afterwards, he never does when he snaps out of it, which is what truly scares him."

The teenager trailed off, his eyes drifting to where his brother was kneeling on the sea floor, his body still trembling but less so than before. Following the younger nation's line of sight, Prussia sluggishly turned his head to the side to see his friend.

"Why does-" Prussia tried to ask but was cut off as he started to cough violently. Reacting on instinct, North eased the albino into a sitting position and patted his back. He didn't have to look at the Prussian's hands, which were over his mouth, to know that he was coughing up blood, it had a wet sound to it.

There wasn't much that he could do though, Scotland was the best at healing spells and it was easy to do more bad than good when it came to healing spells.

"Why? He doesn't believe that we tell him the whole truth about what happened, which Dil has done before. Dylan is the best at calming him down when he's like that, he is so bloody laid back, if he was any more calm he would be in a fucking coma. Joao is similar to Dilly actually, he's calmed Artie down in the past as well.

"The reason Artie reacts so much when people tease him, is so he doesn't fucking bottle up his emotions. Fucking frog teases him on purpose sometimes if he thinks Artie is bottling up some rage. He has been on the receiving end a few times, so knows that no one wants to see Artie like it."

The Prussian felt like rolling his eyes, that wasn't really what he was asking about, but made a mental note on what the younger nation had told him. He tried to ask his question again, only to continue coughing.

"Don't try and talk idiot, I haven't finished explaining. Bloody hell. Where the fuck was I?... Oh, I know.

"You probably want to know why he loses it like that. To be honest I don't know all of it well, none of us do really, which sucks. It's all speculations but the Fae had a pretty good idea.

"Basically, you know that Artie tried to bring our mum back? Well he was broken up into bits when he faded. Technically, Artie died. Sort of. Kind of. I don't really know, Ali gave me a half arsed explanation.

"Shit, what was I on about? Right. Artie was basically in between life and death for a few moments, but it was enough time for something dark to bond to a bit of him."

"Dämon?" Gilbert managed to croak out, this time it wasn't followed by a coughing fit.

"Demon?... Nah, the bastard (Ireland) said it was something else. Something like a demon that feeds on souls but not quite.

"When Artie was brought back by our Mum, a bit of whatever was trying to eat him fucking got brought along with him. A piece of whatever the fucker was got torn away from him and merged with Artie. Sort of like the part angel that Mum put in him, just a smaller bit.

"Does that make sense? I don't care really if it does or not as I'm not explaining again.

"Gil, Gil! Stay awake arsehole, Artie needs you. Come on Gil, just until we save Spain. You want to see him right?"

The Northern Irish nation gently shook the albino's shoulder. The Prussian was on the edge of consciousness when the teen shook him, he groaned to tell the other that he was still awake.
A sigh of relief escaped the youngest Kirkland, lowering his kneeling position so that he was sitting on his legs, he allowed his shoulders to drop. He patted the albino on the cheek almost affectionately, but mainly did it just to keep the Prussian awake.

He stiffened when he felt a webbed hand clasp his own, though it wasn't the Prussian's. The teenager looked up to see a calmer England, though he was still incredibly shaken about all of what had just happened, he hid it well.

Clover eyes studied those that belonged to his brother and, picking up on the hidden emotions, he squeezed his brother's hand. He took a few seconds to examine their hands, their fingers couldn't quite intertwine due to the webbing in between them, before his attention turned to England again.

Arthur offered Connor a small smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. He knew that if it wasn't for the fact that he had Gilbert to worry about and needed to free Antonio, he would be having a breakdown.

"Gott birdie, don't look so pitiful. I don't care about what you did because I'm that awesome, you got reasons. Now hurry up before I die again, from old age. Kesesesese-"

Prussia's attempt to cheer up the Englishman broke apart as he started another coughing fit. Immediately the Englishman was by his friend's side, patting his back and tensed when he caught a glimpse of red in the ghost's hand.

Feeling the Englishman tense, Prussia held up a hand telling England to stop his rant. "I'm not the one that you need to worry about Birdie. I understand that I'm just on your mind as I'm just so awesome, but Toni needs you more Birdie." Gilbert tried to sound upbeat though his voice was strained, and his breathing laboured. He did manage to calm the angel down by a small fraction.

"I suppose you are right Duckie, I can't help but be blinded by your 'awesomeness', I'm only human... well close enough," the Englishman chuckled though it rang hollow.

The blonde attempted to smile but it looked more like a grimace. Gilbert noticed this and tried to stand, only to be pushed back down by Connor.

"Stay, good boy. We can't have you running around like a knob head and making yourself collapse." Despite North pushing him down, Prussia still tried to get up.

"Nein, I'm awesome, I won't collapse. I'm dead anyway and you need my awesomeness to find Toni."

"You can die again though and cease to exist in either heaven or hell. What we are doing to the ghosts that have possessed the others is sending them to hell to suffer for what they tried to do. If you die here, I won't be able to bring you back. Please don't push yourself."

The gentle yet pained tone from the blonde caused Gilbert to freeze. He wanted to query about Atila but it seemed to actually hurt the Englishman at the thought of losing his friend. (He could always ask Foxy later, though he guessed that the Scotsman didn't do enough damage to kill the Hun but just immobilized him.)

"Ok Birdie, I'll take it easy, but I want to see Toni," he replied softly taking hold of the hand that was keeping him down, England had taken over North when Prussia said about dying. He gave it a strong squeeze even though he was exhausted, to prove to the Englishman that he was hanging on.

The angel studied his friend for a few moments before sighing in defeat and helped the Prussian up. It was extremely easy due to the weightlessness the water gave them, it was even easier to move the ghost.

Arthur held onto Gilbert tightly, a little too tight for the Prussian but he said nothing about it. Yes, he winced due to the unneeded pressure on his side, a bit too close to his wound, but he could see the terrified expression on the blonde's face. He wasn't sure whether it was due to the thought of how they were going to find Spain, the fact that they were still underwater, or maybe the Brit was worried about Prussia's well-being, but he decided against resisting.

North was swimming a couple feet ahead, enjoying the spell, but knowing better than to voice it. They were about to free a nation who was likely to been imprisoned in a gruesome way.

The teenager couldn't help it though when he looked back to the pair behind him. England was holding onto Prussia as if he was a giant teddy providing him with comfort.

"So where are you thinking of having your honeymoon? You can tell me, I won't tell, unlike some idiots I know. Cough Seychelles cough cough."

England jumped slightly at the younger nation's voice, his ears turned a very light shade of pink when he noticed how he was helping the Prussian move forward. It was very faint, but North was still able to spot it and was going to tell Scotland about it later.

"We can tell Chickie, we are going somewhere on a magic carpet ride, right Birdie? Then we are going to a ball where we are going to light some lanterns when it reaches midnight. Might go fight a dragon and move into a house with sieben (seven) small people," Prussia answered with a smile but his voice was quieter than it usually was. He was now panting even heavier, having to take a breath after nearly even word.

"You just said a load of Disney references didn't you? I don't particularly fancy being a princess as I know that you won't be the princess Duckie. Why don't we just jump into a blue box and travel though time?" England scoffed, loosening his hold on his friend.

"Nien, I'm not going to go running off with the Doctor. I'm already dealing with crazy ghosts the awesome me does not want to run away from ficken weeping angels.

"Let's go to Hogwarts and learn some awesome magic and stuff. Ride a broom stick around the castle grounds, though I don't think my five meters will enjoy it. Kesese-" the albino's laugh was cut short again as he started to have another coughing fit, spitting up even more blood.

England's eyebrow twitched as his worry grew even more. He knew that Prussia was joking about in an attempt to give off the impression that he was fine, but England knew the truth. He could feel how cold the other was getting, feel the heartbeat against his own chest grow slower and slower.

Even though Gilbert was dead, he was almost alive when in contact with Arthur or any other member of his family. His heart continued to beat even though it no longer needed to, his body just continued to perform most of the normal functions that it was used to.

When in someone's mind though, his body became even more alive. He needed to breathe here, he needed his heart to pump the oxygen around his body. Now his body was beginning to fail him, and England was aware of that.

He was only vaguely aware of Connor's laughter coming to an abrupt stop, but he was fully aware of when Gilbert's heart temporarily froze.

When he looked away from the Prussian, he fully understood why.

In front of him were the remains of a ship, one that looked eerily familiar.

Underwater life were swimming through the cracks and missing boards of the boat. The tattered sails still fluttering due to the weak underwater current, the ship was entangled in coral and kelp. It was as if it had become a part of the sea floor. The main mast was broken, the crow's nest missing, leaving behind large wooden splinters. Ropes and kelp wound around the mast and around the Spaniard who was impaled on it.

Spain was wearing his conquistador clothing, the fabric appearing battle worn, and his usually tanned skin was a light shade of blue. The mast tore through his lower abdomen, his blood mixing with the surrounding sea water. Seaweed wrapped tightly around his body, particularly around his neck, and barnacles and bits of algae covered his body.

A school of electric eels surrounded him, sending constant electric socks through his body, and all of which took the occasional bite out of the Spaniard. Huge chunks of the nation's flesh were missing, so some of his internal organs were on display as well as his ribs on his left side.

His body looked as though it had been underwater for months, slowly decaying.

England knew that once Spain had completely decomposed or was eaten by the eels surrounding him, the ghost would have full control of the nation. Once in complete control the ghost would no longer require the dagger that was currently draining energy from the Spaniard and transfer it to the ghost. Looking at the dagger plunged into Spain's heart, he knew he still had some time left.

North, who was closer to the trapped nation, could still see a bit of the black blade, part of which wasn't being suffocated by dark veins and skin. The veins had already started to wind around the silver hilt. Remaining indifferent to the appearance of the other European nation as he refused to actually see him, Northern Ireland focused on the hilt.

The young nation could feel the dark magic that was pulsating from the dagger, it was his skill. All of the Kirklands had a certain field in magic they were best at or had a natural ability to do so, Connor's was being able to sense any form of dark/evil magic. He was the one who could tell when Arthur was close to losing control, sure the others could guess due to how long they had known him, but Connor could actually feel it.

This dark magic was similar somehow, he couldn't quite place it but he knew that he had come across it before. Yes he had sensed the same energy when helping free the other countries, but something that happened recently caused him to think that it reminded him of something else. He knew that in order to know why he knew the energy, he would have to either touch the dagger or perform the unlinking spell. Both of which were dangerous.

Deciding not to focus on the dark energy, the teenager studied the engravings on the hilt of the dagger. Each dagger was personalised to suit whoever the ghost wished to possess, none of the brothers tended to take any notice of this as they just tried to get the spell over and done with. North however liked to focus on the dagger mainly because that way he didn't pay attention to the state that the nations were, it was his way with coping with this.

Spain's dagger suited him, the top of the hilt was a gold gem representing the sun which twinkled slightly even with the lack of the light. Just under the sun were rolling waves, a ship settled on the top. Under the waves was a bull, then under that was a basket filled with crops that are harvested in Spain, some of them being olives and tomatoes.

If it wasn't for its actual purpose, Northern Ireland would have described the dagger as beautiful. Of course he knew the dagger's purpose, so the only thing that he thought about it was how he was going to be happy destroying the damn thing. Wanting to obliterate the god forsaken weapon, North turned to his brother only to see the blonde panicking.

England was holding onto the Prussian, urgently shaking his shoulders but not too hard. Prussia was completely limp, his head had flopped forward, leaning on the Briton's chest. His skin was alarmingly pale - although he was normally pale it usually had a healthy glow, now it looked as if he was becoming see through.

"Wake up Gilbert, please wake up. Come on Duckie, stay with me!" the blonde pleaded as he tried to wake up his unconscious companion. His bright eyes were wide in terror, his breath coming in quick pants when the ghost remained unresponsive.

Dread shot through the teen's body as he thought the worst, but was still able make out the albino's chest moving up and down. He was still with them, but for how much longer? He should be ok if they treated him, get him to Alistair but there wasn't much that Arthur or Connor could do.

Luckily for them Scotland and Wales were on their way to Spain once North had told them what was happening to England, they changed their course from Poland. The ghost which they were meant to defeat hadn't actually linked with the nation at all and had used their power to shape up the country for the better. Wales asked politely for the ghost to leave and they did, apologising for any harm they may have caused.

"Artie you are going to have to leave Gil for a while, we need to get the fuck out of here to help him. Let's just free Spain, clean up this place and get out." North tried to stay as calm as possible, swimming up to the angel and tugged gently at his shoulder.

England looked up from the Prussian who he had been slapping lightly on the cheek, looking helpless. It pained Connor to see his brother looking so lost. He hoped for Arthur's sake that Gilbert would be ok. The Kirklands joked about England and Prussia being a couple but they could all see how much the blonde needed the Prussian, although England did 'get on' with most of the nations he wasn't close with that many. He couldn't lose someone again.

"I can't just leave him Connor. I won't be able to concentrate knowing that he is like this, I need to concentrate to do the spell. He is hurt because of me Connor, it's like mother all over again. I couldn't do anything, I froze. He is fading because I was too pathetic to face my own fears, I'm so bloody usele-"

"Don't you dare finish that Artie! Don't you fucking dare. Look we don't have time for this if Gil is truly fading, but it's not your fault, it's that fucking arsehole that tortured you Artie. He is the one that pulled the trigger not you. Now move your arse and help me with Spain and don't give me that bull about concentration, when you need to do something and are still able to function, you get it done."

The teenager offered the older nation a smile, but only received a blank look. England had to blink a few times before he was able to get over what North had just said to him. The boy was so grown up, he was able to stay in control in such a situation. He was proud of his little freckle faced brother and if it wasn't for the unconscious ghost currently occupying his hands he would have hugged him.

Not feeling the need to argue with his brother, Arthur searched around for somewhere he could safely place Prussia so he was out of the way. The only place being the seabed, not wanting to put this off any longer the angel placed Prussia on the ground, promising that he wouldn't be long before he joined his younger brother.

Luckily for them the ghost hadn't bothered with putting a defence around Spain so they didn't need to kiss anything to gain access to him. They did however need to get past the eels that were feasting on the nation. Not really bothered by the fish, England just pulled them from the Spanish nation and threw them backwards so North could dispose of them without risking harming Spain.

Both choosing to not look at the Spaniard, they placed their hands either side of the dagger and took in a deep breath. They both began the chant, the Gaelic symbols up their arms glowing brighter. The same colour glow escaped their fingertips and sunk into Spain's chest.

Black wisps flared from the dagger like a roaring fire that had been given an accelerant. Even though the flesh which covered the dagger was retreating, the wisps continued to grow resembling a small twister. They reached about thirty centimetres in height before they dispersed, all of the wisps landing on England.

The blondes hissed in pain, his eyebrows twitching, but kept his eyes shut. Pain was just chemicals released due to signals from the brain; he tried to convince himself that it wasn't real and focused on the task at hand. This task was proving to be difficult to complete as the dark energy coiled up around England's arms and snaked around his chest, feeling like thousands of hot needles prickling his skin.

North heard his brother hiss which caused his eyes to snap open, only to see half of older nation's body covered in the black wisps. His heart leapt up to his throat. This is why Patrick wanted someone with Arthur when they did the unlinking spell, even with Connor here helping the Englishman the dark magic was out of control this much.

Arthur was biting down hard on his lips to stop himself from screaming out, his blood was being whisked away by the water surrounding them. The teenager could see the concentration in his brother's face, a flicker of pain stuck his features as the wisps flared again, not liking the lack of cooperation. That was when it struck Northern Ireland, he knew why this dark energy signature was so familiar and needed to tell his brothers right away.

However, first he needed to concentrate and complete this spell, so closing his eyes, the teen started to repeat the words over and over again in his head to help focus. Just as the spell reached its finishing point, a short yell escaped the Englishman, then it ended.

Opening his eyes yet again, North found England struggling to regain his breath, holding limp Spain. Worried about the blonde, North rushed over to him and took the Spaniard. "Are you ok Artie? Do you want me to clean up while you catch your breath?"

The blonde simply nodded in reply but held out his arms, which confused the Irish nation. Even though he was exhausted, England managed to roll his eyes and simply took the unconscious nation back off the teen before swimming down to where he had left the Prussian.

Now understanding what Arthur meant and feeling slightly stupid for not thinking that far ahead, North went to clean up Spain's mind. It was fairly simple spell, but moving this amount of water was going to be tricky, he usually had a someone to help him but Arthur wasn't in any shape to do so.
It took him a bit longer than it normally did to clean everything but he did it regardless. Happy that he could now get the fuck out of here, North practically skipped over to his brother, singing the counter spell that gave him the ability to breath underwater. They could breathe out of water like it but it was more comfortable to change back to normal. Once he reached his brother though he was no longer in a good mood as he saw England swearing violently and performing CPR on Prussia.

(Before North joined)

The three nations were huddled around the tub in which they had deposited England, not really knowing what to talk about now that they had sorted out England. All of them were furious at the idea that England was facing that man again, but they couldn't really do anything to stop it.

Portugal was silently seething, gripping his guitar tightly. He wanted to strum a tune on it as that always soothed him, but was too angry to think straight enough to even come up with a song. Still he knew that Arthur had left him the job of protecting his body from ghosts so was constantly scanning his surroundings.

France was struggling to comprehend all of what was going on, he had recently talked to his deceased friend and his other friend was facing his former enemy who had given him hell. He was currently sitting on the edge of the bath tub staring at the Englishman, waiting for any signs that meant England had defeated the ghost so Northern Ireland could help.

North was currently dismantling a gun and putting it back together again. His movements were twitchy, it was clear to the other two nations that it was killing the teen not being able to help his brother. He, like France, was sitting on the edge of the tub, not actually sure why he'd helped fill it up as England didn't need it, but was looking outwards.

A strange tingle went up his spin as he felt a strong dark energy very close by, sighing, he cautiously turned around to see England's eyes open. Only his eyes were replaced with green flames. Shit.

"That doctor is as good as dead," the teen muttered. He was having mixed feelings about this, on one hand the psychopath was getting his comeuppance but then that meant that Arthur himself had become a psycho. He did not like dealing with Arthur when he was like this, actually he didn't know how to deal with him.

Wales was the one gifted with the abnormal ability to calm people down, not him. He really should think about getting lessons from his older brother, it was a skill that often came in handy. He didn't know what to do once he was able to dive back in to help Arthur, apparently Portugal picked up on this and placed a hand on the teenager's shoulder.

"Best thing to do when he is like this amigo is to stay calm, stare him down, he won't harm you. You should know that Arthur has a weak spot of children, he snapped a few times as an empire but never once harmed any of his colonies," the Portuguese nation spoke softly, giving France a playful nudge as he may have been the cause more than once.

Clover eyes studied the brunette's face, he always did forget that Joao was like Dylan with his ability to keep a level head. Portugal was telling him the truth, having been a long-time ally with England he would have a pretty good idea of how to handle the island nation.

He allowed his shoulders to slump relaxing by a fraction but he couldn't ignore the butterflies that was gnawing away at his stomach. He was nervous. Who wouldn't be, he had to face a demon-like England as he doubted that Prussia was going to respond well to seeing him in that state... but then what had caused Arthur to lose control.

He didn't really have that much time to dwell on the matter as he felt the barrier lift from the Spaniard meaning he could finally enter his mind and help England. Seeing the teenager tense France assumed that he was now able to leave his body again and tapped his hand. Once the Irish nation looked up he was met with an encouraging smile and a thumbs up from the French nation.

The freckled nation couldn't help but snort at the Frenchman, lots of people called the nation a pervert but he was actually a good guy. A bit touchy feely sometimes but a good guy who cared for others.

"You should get in the tub with ton frère, we would like to keep you as comfortable as possible," he suggested with a wink, it was his way of breaking the tension which actually worked. The teenager rolled his eyes and laid on the ground beside the tub, muttering the same spell that he had placed on Arthur. His body glowed for a short amount of time before it faded revealing a fish like North.

"If I look like I am drying out, throw a cup of water on me," was all he said before his body went limp as his soul left and entered Spain. The pair watched as the soul left, even though France had seen this happen a few times it still amazed him, Portugal was awed. Both of them had seen England and North do it a little while ago, but it was just the very idea that they could actually detach themselves from their body was overwhelming.

"You think that he will be alright with Angleterre?"

"Sim (yes) he will be fine, but I am more worried why Arthur lost his cool," the Portuguese nation whispered, staring at nothing in particular. France glanced at the other nodding his head slowly, it would have to be something big to cause Arthur to snap.

"Gilbert," the Frenchman breathed, his blood running cold at the thought. Could he die again? Was it possible? He had shot a ghost in the head, yet the blow didn't kill them. Didn't Scotland say something about it just seriously hurting them though, did real weapons not truly hurt ghosts?

"Francis!" Portugal's unusual sharp tone snapped him out of his thoughts to look up to see dozens of ghosts standing on the border. All of them looked hungry. Both of them slowly hopped off the tub and took a defensive stance, both of them swearing internally.

Without warning several ghosts all lunged at once, two thirds going after the teen, the rest after England. Reacting slightly quicker than France, Portugal jumped in front of the Northern Irish nation and swung his guitar like a bat.

He succeeded in fencing off the first attack, but didn't take any time to celebrate as he knew that wasn't going to be the end of it. Dropping his guitar on the floor, the tanned nation reached for his axe, one similar to the one Spain possessed.

Despite his height, the nation was very light on his feet, which was coming into great use as he practically danced around the ghosts. He jumped back just as a pair of razor like claws dived at his throat, he used the axe to block the attack and kicked the ghost in the gut. The ghost wheeled back only to get cut down by the now pissed off Portuguese nation.

He kept cutting them down, but still they continued to come. Portugal managed to glance at France to see how he was doing, the blonde was fairing very well. The French nation was very skilled with a rapier, he had to be really considering how many time he parried with England.

The French nation jumped to the side to avoid getting attacked but also defending England. The ghosts were relentless in their attacks against the angel, even though North was the easier target as he wasn't in a tub. Seeing a ghost getting too close to the Englishman, France threw his sword into the back of a ghost, leaving himself unarmed.

This didn't seem to bother him though as he grabbed hold of an attacking ghost's arm and flipped it over his head, but he didn't realised that he had his back turned to an oncoming threat. It was too late by the time he realised, he whirled round only for his eyes to go wide.

Clang!

The attacking ghost's strike was blocked by another sword. France almost fell to knees as he looked to his saviour. The knight spun round as if their armour weighed nothing and plunged their sword into another incoming threat. The knight lifted up their face guard to reveal a woman with dark blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Bonjour Monsieur Francis. Long-time no see. Keep on guard, we can talk later," the woman greeted him with a wink. She noticed the stunned look on his face which caused her smile to stretch wider, dodging an attack, Joan spun round and withdrew France's sword from the ghost he had stabbed earlier before throwing it to the nation.

"Joan?" was all that the Frenchman could say; he froze momentarily but quickly regained control as when another ghost got dangerously close to England. He was strangely calm about seeing the woman he once loved again, maybe it was because he was so overwhelmed about everything that had happened that it was going to take a while to sink in.

With Joan's help, the two nations were successful in keeping the ghosts at bay but were quickly becoming tired - apparently a side effect of being inside of the perimeter. It was when the ghosts started to back away that Joan smiled, she could tell that England and North were coming back.

That smile fell through when the tub fell on the floor, water spilling out. Three heads snapped round to see Arthur on top of Gilbert, furiously preforming CPR. The ghost was becoming see through, which sent a stab of panic through Arthur's soul. He was running out of options, he couldn't lose Gilbert not now. He had to do something.

"Someone give me a knife."

So yeah, we have Joan... Hey Fritz made an appearance so why can't she. She wont be in it much as I don't know how to write her..

I think Egypt's imprisonment was grosser... or was it just what happened to Iggy that made it gross? I think it was Iggy.

So Prussia is currently dying and England is going to be OOC for a while

I am not kind to the boys they hate me and are giving me evils.

any way review and stuff and Happy New Year!